Divide and Conquer
by Wolfyman123
Summary: The disappearance of Eragon Shadeslayer sets of events that nobody believe possible to happen. Events that had only been dreamed of by the most twisted of men. The allied forces have to decide whether or not to continue there rebellion, or to let it die.
1. Chapter 1

As he regained consciousness, Eragon felt a deep chill run through his body. His arms ached, while his legs felt like somebody dropped a boulder on them. His body was cold, and he tried to draw his arms into his chest to protect his exposed skin from the unexplained coldness. As his arms lifted from his side, Eragon realized that he was in a sitting position, with his back against something incredibly cold. Hearing metal clanking together, Eragon opened his eyes.

The first thing he noticed was that it was impossibly dark. There was no light source at all where ever he was, and he was to exhausted to try to light a fire with his magic. Hearing the clanking of the metal again, Eragon tried to jump up from his position, but he was held back by his wrists. Tugging at them, he discovered that they were held by heavy chains, ones that could stop even his elven strength. Feeling the wall behind him, he found that it was concrete, and was cold to the touch. Slowly maneuvering away from the wall as best he could, Eragon felt the tattered remains of his old tunic.

Running his hands across his naked chest, he felt many deep scars, and found that some of his latest wounds had yet to stop bleeding. He could not remember how many days he woke just like this, and waited for hours. Waiting. _That's all I ever do know, _he thought. He was waiting for the man in black to come through the door across the cell -which was now visible to him due to his enhanced vision- and begin the latest rounds of torture.

His mind flashed to Arya's imprisonment, and the number of wounds he saw on her paled to what he could remember receiving nearly ever day. Healers would come in by the dozens to heal him, but they always left one or two wounds open so that he would be in even further discomfort. They were unable to penetrate his mental defenses, so they resorted to the old way that nearly always worked; physical pain.

Due to the fact that he was healed constantly, the torture sessions continued to get longer and longer. Once he thought that the latest session lasted at the very least three days. The man in black returned ever few hours -or what he believed to be- and would oversee his sessions. The food they gave him worse than what he received in Gilead, but he knew that in order to survive, he had to take the poison they gave him. The questions they asked blurred together now. Before, they would ask the location of Saphira, the latest plans that the Varden leader had made, and even the plans of the elven army that was advancing from the north.

Of course, the sorcerers that tried to enter his mind were left mindless, but he had noticed that the man in black had yet to try to breach his mind. Either the man was unable to, or he was saving it as a back up incase the physical pain didn't break him first. He knew that to break was to give up everything he had worked for, and would be the end of the Varden and even the elves. Still, he was surprised that he hadn't been brought straight to Galbatorix, and he had yet to see any evidence of Murtagh. Though, he didn't even know where he was, and wasn't sure that Galbatorix knew as well.

Here he was, the Varden's hope, sitting in a cold, damp cell, blood flowing freely out of his wounds. Trying to get his mind away from his current situation, he thought about the two things he always thought about here. Arya and Saphira. His connection with Saphira was closed due to the drug, but he was sure that he was miles away from where she was currently. As for Arya, he hoped that she was with Saphira, as not anyone could calm a raging dragon. He was still unable to recall the memory of how he was captured. He imagined things from ambushes to him losing a wrestling match with a urgal made of stone.

Reach out, Eragon grabbed his ripped tunic. Taking it, he pressed it as best he could against the most severe wound he could see. The would looked like it was made by a whip, yet instead of being on his back it ran from the left part of his chest down to his right hip. The wound stung a bit from the pressure, but he ignored it. He tried to ignore nearly all of the pain they caused him, and he never once let out more than a slight groan. While he couldn't make the pain fully disappear, he was glad that he had things to occupy his mind. He knew it wouldn't last forever, and he had to find a way out as soon as he could. Slowly, he would design a plan of escape, and the moment he was able to, he would take it.

Hearing footsteps approach, Eragon tried to make it look like he was still unconscious. The footsteps grew louder, pounding away on his eardrums. Days of solitude made his ears uncomfortable due to lack of use. Finally, the footsteps stopped outside the door. He knew those footsteps to be the man in black, and he mentally prepared himself for whatever the man would try. As the hinges on the massive metal door hissed in protest, he squinted his eyes against the sudden light from a torch. As he gazed upon the massive figure, he saw no visible skin to identify exactly who the man in black was. The man wore black chain mail, and a black helmet that he never removed. Not even his eyes were visible through the engulfing blackness.

The man stepped into the cell, closing the door behind him. As the man approached, he heard him say, "Stop playing games with me, rider. I know you are awake."

Shifting into a more comfortable spot, Eragon merely gazed at the man with a impassive stare. Chuckling, the man said, "I can see you picked up much beside looks from those blasted elves, haven't you rider? No matter, you will break just like they all do. Guards! Take the prisoner to the torture chamber, I have something special in mind for him today."

The man in black stepped aside as the door opened and guards rushed in. Four of the twelve guards ran up beside Eragon and removed the shackles from him. Looking at the guards, Eragon saw that most of them seemed uncomfortable with the man in black, and that most of them tried to avoid both himself and the other man. He contained a groan as the guards forced him to his feet. The guards led him from the cell into the illuminated hallway, while the man in black followed behind.

The hallway was bright with the many torches lining the wall, each causing shadows to dance on the wall as the men passed. The went down the hallway, making a few turns here and there, and finally stopped at a small wooden door. The door looked out of place next to larger iron doors, but Eragon knew what was contained behind there. The man in black approached the door, tapping it five times. The wooden door swung open, and the guards pushed Eragon into the dark room.

* * *

><p>Gazing up at the midday sun, Roran let out a sigh. The march from Feinster to Belatona was a painful one, but the sudden assault on the city was murder. He ached all over, and everyday he found a new bruise he never knew he had. The city of Belatona was bigger than Feinster, with the keep located at the opposite side. Once they had made it to the keep and acquired the mayor as a hostage, the citizens of Belatona laid down their weapons. Galbatorix's men, however, didn't have a problem with the threat.<p>

The fact that Eragon and Arya fought hundreds of soldiers inside the keep just to reach the mayor only made seizing control of the city that much easier. Roran and Eragon had separated at the gate of the keep, with himself and his men holding back the onslaught of soldiers. He didn't know that that was the last he would see of Eragon. From Arya's report, once they had reached the mayor, Eragon had gone further into the keep because of something the mayor had said.

Arya had escorted the mayor to Nasuada just as Eragon asked, but had ran straight back into the keep after him. All she had found of him was Brisingr lying amidst dozens of bodies. Arya had scouted the whole keep in search of Eragon, even checking the vacant dungeon cells located beneath the keep. She had taken Brisingr herself, and had chosen not to stay in the keep. Nasuada was given the Mayor's old quarters, and Arya was offered what would have been Eragon's quarters.

She instead chose to stay in a empty house close to his own, which Roran had found odd. Whenever he would see her venture outside, she would glance at his own temporary place of residents, all the while gripping Brisingr in her hands. Even with Eragon missing, he still hadn't seen one flicker of emotion. She seemed to withdraw further into a cold shell.

Walking down the street towards the keep, Roran spotted many of the citizens of Belatona quickly run away from him. Nasuada had called another damnable meeting, one that he was sure would be completely pointless again. All the members of the meeting argued over whether to stay in the city, or to leave before the coming winter. Only himself and Arya had remained quiet, but Arya never spoke much at all unless she was asked something.

Entering the large keep and going down a hallway towards the meeting room, Roran spotted a giant hole that had been made from Saphira. As soon as Arya had returned with Brisingr, Saphira had tried to claw her way inside the keep. Scorch marks were present all over the inside of the keep. At least, the areas she was able to reach. Walking over a pair of deep claw marks, Roran saw the giantess herself.

_Saphira changed when Eragon disappeared_, Roran thought. Saphira would only speak to Arya, but he caught her watching him in the room used for the meeting. The room itself was massive, with a long table in the center. It was clearly a dining hall, and the area that Roran guessed was used to dance on now held the great Dragoness. Nodding his head in greeting to her as he walked pass, he felt her breath her warm breathe on him. His spot at the table was across from where Eragon would have sat, which was left unoccupied by all. Nasuada held the end of the table, with a massive chair that was lined with silver.

Next to the unoccupied seat sat Arya herself, an impassive look on her face. Some of the members of the meeting, besides Nasuada, kept shooting her glances. After a arrogant Council member at the first meeting had said that they were better of without the Dragon Rider, Arya had broken the previous table in anger. Some of the members still looked as if they were ready to bolt the second she showed _any_ emotion. As Roran sat at the table, Nasuada finally said, "Good, we are all here."

As soon as Nasuada spoke, everyone began to speak at once to be heard by the Varden leader. Crossing his arms in annoyance, Roran glanced at Arya. He was shocked to find her gazing at him, and he merely raised a eyebrow in response. She turned her gaze away from him, and instead focused on Nasuada.

Obviously having something -finally- important to speak of, Nasuada said, "Enough!"

As the room quieted down, Nasuada stood from her chair. "These past few months have been difficult ever since Eragon disappeared, and we are fortunate that Galbatorix hasn't sent the spawn of Morzan here. However, we can not remain idle much longer. Without Eragon, the Varden will fall apart. We have had spies search nearly all the locations in which Eragon would be held if he was captured by the Empire, except Urû'baen."

One of the Council members spoke up, "And what do you propose we do? If Galbatorix does have him in Urû'baen, then there is nothing we can do."

"I do not believe he is with Galbatorix. I have communicated with Islanzadí, and we have agreed that we may know where he is located," said Nasuada. Roran glanced at Arya again, and he saw that she instantly perked up at the last statement. She was staring intensely at Nasuada, and he never before saw such a emotion come from her.

"And where, pray tell, is he located?" Arya said. Roran was amused at the fact that nearly half of the members jumped out of their seats when Arya spoke up.

"For now, I will not release that information publicly. However, Arya, Islanzadí has asked that you lead the rescue team, and that you should chose another elf who is capable to go with you." Nasuada replied. Arya, obviously pleased at the fact that she would be heading the mission, became once again silent.

"Roran." Nasuada said, causing him to jump in surprise, "you will join Arya and the other elf in the mission. You will be following Arya's command this time. Because of the importance of this mission, I only trust you to help recover him. You will leave first thing tomorrow morning. Supplies have already been packed. Arya and yourself are hereby dismissed from the rest of the meeting. If anything of importance is discussed, I will inform you personally tomorrow morning."

Roran was grateful for the dismissal, as it gave him more time to spend with Katrina. As he got up from the table, he bowed to Nasuada saying, "Thank you, my lady."

Walking from the table, he paused in front of Saphira. She opened one sapphire eye, and he was mesmerized by the color. She lifted her head and placed her nose against his forehead. As she withdrew, he heard her say, _Go, Roran Stronghammer, and return my little one to me._

* * *

><p>The next morning, after saying goodbye to a badly upset Katrina, Roran grabbed his hammer, and began his walk towards the large gate of the city. Nasuada had sent a messenger later in the day yesterday, telling him to meet her before sunrise at the entrance to Belatona. He knew that the elves didn't need horses, and he hoped Snowfire was up to the task staying in pace with them. The morning was a cold one, and Roran felt it chill his bones. Nobody was awake at this ungodly hour, leaving Roran to walk the road in an empty silence.<p>

Reaching the gate, Roran saw that Nasuada was staring out into the far distance. Standing next to her was Arya and the elf that she had fought with at the beginning of the siege on Feinster. As he approached, the two elves turned to face him. Arya was as mysterious looking as always, and Roran couldn't spot what Eragon saw in her. She had her customary elven sword on her left hip, with Brisingr resting on her right. He knew that Eragon trusted no one else with his sword, but was still surprised to see her caring it everywhere she went.

As Nasuada turned away from the open gate, she gestured to the horse next to her. "I believe that this is your mount, Stronghammer. I hope he is up to the task ahead of him."

Nodding, Roran jumped onto Snowfire's back, and saw that he was laced with packs of what assumed to be food. Gesturing at the two elves beside him, he asked, "And what of them? Do they not require a horse?"

The elf, who Roran had remembered was called Blödhgarm, smiled. "We can run as fast as any horse, Stronghammer."

Roran nodded again, remembering Eragon and Arya's trip back from Helgrind. The fact that they could keep pace with a horse scare Roran a little, but he never showed any outward sign of it. Nasuada finally said, "It is time for you three to depart. You are to search three possible places for Eragon. Islanzadí as scried Eragon, and saw that he was in a dark dungeon cell. She told me that she had only seen three dungeons in her life time, and the location of each. I marked the location on this map, and this map only. If anyone was to discover where you were heading, it would be disastrous." Nasuada extended a arm towards Arya, and gave her a scroll she had been holding.

The elf unrolled the scroll, and he imagined that it was a map. The fact that he was traveling to a location that he had no where it was located did little to quell his nervousness. Arya nodded, and placed the scroll into the pack on her back. He watched as Nasuada gazed at Arya for a long moment, then said, "Go."

The two elves shot off into the dark, and Roran snapped his reins on Snowfire. The sun was just beginning to rise, giving Roran some vision in the fading darkness. Matching pace with the two running elves, Roran saw that Arya was leading them straight into the heart of the Spine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Eragon didn't know that he was capable of screaming that loud. His voice still felt hoarse whenever he tried to make any sound, which was rare. It had been the man in black's idea to have Eragon whipped until there was no skin left on his body. What had been even worse was that the whip was coated in Seithr oil. The sudden pain from the whipping was something Eragon could brave, but the Seithr oil literally made his skin crawl. Then, like every other torture session, Eragon was beaten mercilessly by anyone who wished to hit him. He felt his mind slowly break away, and it would eventually leave him nothing but a empty husk. The pain had caught up to him, and it was even worse than when Durza had opened his back. His back had offered him some time away from the incredible pain, but this, this never ended.

He was slowly putting together a plan of escape. Eragon knew that the very instant he escaped the cell, he would be hard pressed to find a way back to the Varden. Of course, he had to see if he was closer to the approaching Elven army, which would make resting and healing easier.

Long ago he had examined the cuffs around his wrists, and found that they were unlocked by a special key. Another key was needed for the door to his cell, and he figured that it may require numerous others to escape where ever he was. That wasn't counting the wards that were over the cell. He began to eat less and less everyday, and it was tiring his body. If his plan was to work, he needed to be able to cast magic once again, or at least be able to extend his mind to a certain distance. What he had to do sickened Eragon to his stomach, but he knew the cost of remaining here.

There was not that Eragon knew about the man in black, but since the guards feared him, he felt that he should be wary of him during his escape. He couldn't waste what little energy he had left on a fight, especially if he had to run. The echo of footsteps reached Eragon's ears. It only sounded like one person was approaching, which meant that it was a change of guard. Whoever had captured him spared no expense in trying to keep him in.

The approaching guard stopped feet away from his cell door, and he heard the guard speak to the guard next to his door, "Did you hear? Apparently a sentry contacted Hermod about riders approaching. Hermod told most of us to ride to the north to another spot, but I don't know where exactly it is."

"And leave this elf here almost undefended? What his Hermod thinking?" said the other guard. "Who is to leave? Cause Balder promised me.." Eragon ignored the rest of the conversation, and instead thought of this Hermod. _Perhaps the man in black? _he thought.

Whoever it was, Eragon knew that they had to have good reason for guards to leave him. Eragon knew that he himself was powerful, but did this Hermod think otherwise? _Whoever he is, it isn't the smartest thing to ignore a Dragon Rider. _

Incoming riders being spotted by a sentry could mean that Nasuada had sent out riders, but for what purpose? Was he close enough to Belatona that the riders could being spotted where a threat? After all, why would Nasuada sent out riders when she had other means of communication?

* * *

><p>"We have been spotted."<p>

It was the only thing that came out of Arya's mouth in the past few days. Roran was left to talk to Blödhgarm, who, besides leaving his head spinning in riddles, was pleasant company. Maybe it was because he had gotten used to the way his cousin spoke, or that Blödhgarm himself was actually bored. After all, all they did was run nearly most of the day. The only other thing that was left was to look for food. Roran tried to collect as things as he could that someone could eat besides meat, but the Spine was scarce in food.

The upcoming winter left chills in the night, and Roran stayed as close as he could to the raging fire. Blödhgarm was sitting next to Roran, with Arya directly opposite. Roran saw that Arya once again had Brisingr in her hands, and was staring at the fire. He watched as she slowly drew the sword out of its sheath, and placed it near the fire. Eragon had once said that the sword was made of brightsteel, making it flexible, yet unbreakable. He briefly remembered Eragon explaining the history of the riders swords, and only remembered that the colors corresponded with their dragons.

Turning towards Blödhgarm, Roran whispered, "I thought that Eragon had a red sword. I remember briefly seeing it at The Burning Plains, but when I asked him he never said anything about it, merely saying that he got a new one."

Blödhgarm's demeanor darkened, and Roran believed that he had offended the elf. As soon as Blödhgarm opened his mouth to respond, Arya had cut him off. "Murtagh had taken it. From what Eragon has told me, Brom gave it to him when they fled Carvahall, and Eragon used it to slay a shade. It was originally Morzan's, and named Zar'roc, meaning _misery._"

They way she spoke was distant, and cold. Despite being close to the raging fire, Roran felt a chill set over him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Blodhgarm shiver as well. Arya had fallen silent, and instead took to poking the fire with Brisingr. Watching the way the fire seemed to come alive around the blade, Roran couldn't help but let out a involuntary sigh. All he wished for was for everything to be back to the way it was, before Eragon had found Saphira's egg.

Everything was simpler then, and had made sense. Now, in a world filled with magicians, dragons, elves, and dwarves, Roran felt uncomfortable. He missed Katrina, but he desperately wanted his cousin back. Lying down on his side, Roran fell asleep, dreaming about Katrina and his unborn child.

* * *

><p>Feeling a nudge on his shoulder, Roran snapped open his eyes and reached for his hammer. He saw that it was almost day light, and that the fire had died down. Arya was standing over him, and for a second he saw a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth. <em>Not entirely devoid of emotion, are you elf?<em> he thought.

Getting up off the ground, Roran walked over to Snowfire's saddle, and took out a piece of bread. Quickly shoving down the meal, Roran readied Snowfire, and jumped onto his back. Nodding at the two elves, he followed them as they set off into the night. He was used to riding, and found that the trip was enjoyable. He could sprint Snowfire as fast as he wanted, and didn't have to worry about our distancing anyone. The two elves were easily able to keep pace with his horse.

They rode through the dense forest for hours, weaving through the trees at breakneck speed. Snowfire was easily up for the task, having gotten back into shape from Roran's constant use. Arya led them into a valley, and what Roran saw amazed him. There, in the middle of the forest, was a structure Roran had never seen. It was tall, but seemed to be in ruins.

"What is it?" Roran asked. He didn't know who to ask, so directed the question at both elves.

Blödhgarm responded in a whisper, as they silently approached the structure. "It is a old elven outpost. There are many of these around Alagaësia, but most of them are inhabitable. However, this one it seems, has seen Empire soldiers." Blödhgarm pointed to the top most section of the outpost. The top of the outpost was completely gone, and from Roran could see, most of the stones that used to be there were on the ground surrounding the outpost. Squinting at the distance, Roran saw that a Empire flag was flying high over the structure.

Blödhgarm said something in his language to Arya, to which she responded with a nod. Roran merely raised a eyebrow towards Blödhgarm, hoping that he would explain. "This is one of the locations that Queen Islanzadí has told us about."

Roran's heart began to pump harder, and he was about to charge Snowfire forward when Arya grasped the reins from his hands. "We continue on foot."

Nodding, Roran jumped off Snowfire, and let him graze around. Taking his hammer in hand, Roran followed the two elves. Gazing at the outpost, Roran saw that they were approaching from the left side. It was early in the morning by now, with the sun peaking over the nearby mountains. Being so early, the patrol that was heading there way was easy to handle. Arya had surprisingly decided to use Brisingr, and Roran watched in fascination as she killed a guard with ease.

Looking away from her, Roran and Blödhgarm took out the remaining two guards, insuring that they didn't let out any warning. Following the elves, he barely heard them stepping on the ground. Trying to mimic they way they walked, the three of them approached the entrance to the outpost. They halted behind a large tree next to the outpost, being able to see the entrance. Four guards were stationed there, and Roran assumed the rest were inside. Turning towards Blödhgarm, Roran asked, "How do we know if Eragon is truly here? It seems odd to have him so far away from Galbatorix."

Blödhgarm merely shrugged, and replied, "We don't."

Roran sighed, and muttered, "That's reassuring."

Arya shushed him, and gestured towards the guards. "We have to go in quickly, before they can raise any alarm. Blödhgarm, venture to the top of the tower and kill any there who may signal for help. Stronghammer, come with me."

Blödhgarm nodded, and the three charged at the unsuspecting guards. Roran, instead of letting out a large battle cry, instead brought down his hammer onto one of the guards. The guards were simple soldiers, like the ones Roran had fought against at both Belatona and Feinster. His hammer quickly killed the guard, and Roran glanced at the two elves.

Blödhgarm had taken out small daggers, and had killed two of the guards in one swing. Arya had mercilessly decapitated the guard with Brisingr, and Roran quickly looked away. Entering the massive outpost, more guards charged at them. They quickly disposed of them, and Roran looked around. Inside the outpost entrance was a massive room, with a two staircases, one going up and the other going down below. Beside the staircases was a enormous pile of rubble, and Roran assumed that the structure had collapsed at one point.

Blödhgarm took off towards the staircase leading up, killing several guards on his way. Roran followed Arya down below, were there was minimal light. Arya had said a word in the ancient language, and a small light appeared hovering over Roran's shoulder. The light illuminated the dark hallway, and Roran heard a moan coming a few ways down.

Arya sprinted as soon as the voice let out the moan, and Roran had trouble keeping up with her. They came upon a dead end, with three doors left in the hallway. Each door was made of solid metal, and was locked by a key. Roran approached the one on the right, slamming his hammer at the lock. The lock didn't budge. He heard Arya whisper something at one of the other doors, then let out a curse.

Looking at the side of the door, Roran saw two massive hinges. Taking his hammer, Roran pounded the hinge, and heard a satisfying _snap_ as the metal broke. He quickly destroyed the other hinge, and then swung his hammer in a wide ark at the door. The door creaked under the massive blow, and Roran rained four more at the door. The lock snapped under the strain, and he knocked over the steel door. The light followed Roran as he entered the room, and he saw that a man was tied up at the far end of the cell.

Rushing over to the man, Roran heard no noise coming from him. Not knowing who it was, Roran tilted the face so he could see it. Who ever the man was, he was old. Seeing that the man was dead, Roran quickly exited the room. _Damn,_ he thought.

By that time, Blödhgarm had rejoined them, and was quickly making work of the middle door. Arya, who was whispering things in the ancient language, let out a angry sigh, and unsheathed Brisingr. She screamed its name, and Roran was surprised when it set ablaze. _I thought Eragon said he was the only one who could make it do that, _Roran thought.

Arya seemed surprised as well that it had worked, and she cut the door in half. Extinguishing the sword, he watched as Arya entered the cell. She quickly exited, shaking her head. Blödhgarm exited the middle room, and Roran saw that he was holding something. Blödhgarm held up the piece of leather he was holding, and Roran saw that it was Eragon's belt. "Beloth the Wise," he heard Arya whisper. She took the belt, and peeled back a strip of leather revealing twelve jewels.

"There's still some energy left in them." Blödhgarm said, "Come we must get out of here before anymore show up."

Arya nodded, and Roran followed the two elves as the exited the dungeon. Several more guards were waiting for them, and the three quickly made work of them. It still amazed Roran as to how fast they could move, and he was glad that they opposed Galbatorix as well. Sprinting as fast as he could back into the forest after the elves, Roran looked around for Snowfire.

As he expected, Snowfire still grazing around the forest, and when he approached Snowfire bolted straight towards him. Quickly jumping on the horses back, Roran followed the elves as the ventured deeper into the forest. After a few hours journey, they stopped in a clearing that held a brook. Dismounting Snowfire, Roran approached the brook and drank from it. The water helped calm him down, and he saw that the two elves were also drinking from the brook.

Watching Arya, he saw as she stopped and took out Beloth the Wise. She cleaned the leather off, and placed it in a pack on Snowfire's saddle. Snowfire held three packs, each for one of the three. Roran never dared to open either elves pack, and suspected that might be unable to. Walking towards Arya, he asked, 'Where to next?"

Arya turned away from him, and pointed in what he assumed to be north-west. He was disappointed that he hadn't found Eragon, and his worry for his cousin increased. He knew his cousin was capable of handling himself, but he knew that he would be killed if he was brought to Galbatorix. Worse, he knew if Eragon was forced to obey Galbatorix due to his true name, he didn't know if he would be able to fight him.

_This is what he must have felt towards Murtagh. To fight your own blood.._ the thought made Roran shiver.

* * *

><p>Eragon heard angry yelling, and assumed that it must have been Hermod. A few days ago, Eragon had learned that it was indeed the man in blacks name. His back still ached, and the smell of his own rotting flesh nearly made him puke. Hermod had stopped the Seithr oil, as a healer said his body couldn't handle another session.<p>

_I have already handled at least six "sessions," _Eragon thought. He was glad though. He didn't know if his body _was_ able to handle another. The plan that he had thought up days ago was slipping from his mind, and every time he was faced with more pain, it slipped further. When he tried to reach out towards the memory, he instead found something entirely different.

It was something buried, and every time he was struck, it only came out further. Eragon had no idea what it was, but only that it was slowly consuming him. He knew that he had to fight whatever it was, but the more it gained over him, the less he felt of the pain. He felt himself give to it, and after a while, it was hard to attempt a coherent thought when it arose. Every time Hermod approached him, the _feeling _intensified. Eragon did not know how much more he was able to handle.

The door to the cell swung open, and Hermod entered. Eragon felt the intensity increase, and he was barely able to make out what the man said. "It seems that somebody has raided a outpost not to far from here. It is no matter, though. Who ever it is, they won't be able to enter this place."

Eragon barely felt the guards unclasp his wrists, and the next the he knew, he was being dragged down the hallway. The feeling was gaining on him now, and he began to understand what it was. It was a feeling Saphira sometimes felt. The feeling grew, and it took over his mind. The only thing Eragon was able to register was that it was _feral. _

He never experienced it himself, but it was as if a intense wave of rage had hit him. With the little ground he still held over his own mind, he tried to direct it. Instead, the rage exploded, and with it came as something Eragon would later describe as a magic backlash. His blood felt as if it was burning, and he began to see red. His vision narrowed, and his limbs began to shake. Energy flowed through his veins, and he felt it explode out of him. The guards were thrown away from him, slamming into the walls. He smelt blood, and it only increased the rage.

Hermod was ahead of him, and he only felt the desire to kill. It flowed freely through his body now, and he lost himself in it. His body charged at Hermod, who had drawn a broadsword. Hermod screamed something unintelligible, and Eragon felt a snarl escape his lips. Every muscle in his body felt renewed with energy, and he slammed a fist into Hermod's chest. Hermod fell a few steps back, his dark chest plate dented from the impact.

A guard rushed at Eragon, and he slammed his fist through his skull. Ignoring the blood and brains dripping down his hand, Eragon killed the other guards who charged him. He didn't know how many guards rushed at him, only that every time he killed one, the feeling grew. Hermod had ran up a flight of stairs, and Eragon rushed after him. Up the stairs was another massive steel door, and Hermod had screamed something at it. The door opened, and Hermod entered, closing behind him.

Eragon approached the door, and let out another sound that sounded like a snarl. He slammed his fists into the steel door, denting it with each blow. He only struck it three times when it gave, and Eragon quickly pushed it aside. Guards rushed at him, and he felt the feral rage unleash itself upon them. Guards poured into the doorway, each one dying by Eragon's bare hands. In his rage, Eragon hadn't even bothered to pick up a sword or shield, merely continued to kill the guards despite the wounds he was taking.

Of course, the rage that was flowing through him blocked out all pain. Eventually, the guards realized that they couldn't kill him, and ran. Frustrated that they were running, Eragon charged after them. He followed them around a corner, and saw a bright light at the far end of the hallway. Even with his vision red, he was stunned by the light for a second.

Hermod had rushed through the light, and slammed him into a wall. Snarling, Eragon felt the rage mount higher than before. His mind couldn't process what was happening, and it passed in a blur. He saw himself push off the wall, then saw himself on top of Hermod, pounding away into the mans chest.

Each punch made a satisfying crunching sound, and Eragon continued his assault. His mind didn't process someone approaching, but he felt it when the person grabbed his wrist, stopping the next punch. He unleashed another punch at the person's chest, and felt something snap. Pushing the person onto there back, he jumped on top of them and raised his fist. He hesitated, however, when he heard the person say in a musical voice, "Eragon?"

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><p><strong>AN: Sorry about the update delay, but it kinda gets hard to write when I'm so busy. Hope you guys enjoy! Oh, and it anyone is interested in being a Beta Reader for this story, send me a PM! Could definitely use one!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Jumping down from the stone wall, Roran looked around the enormous castle. They had ventured deeper into the spine, and arrived at a place Blödhgarm described as Morzan's Castle. From the look of it, however, it looked nothing like a castle. It was in complete ruins, much like the outpost they visited. Arya had decided that it would be best for them to enter the castle in darkness, making it had for the guards to see them.

The only problem, was that it made it hard for _him_ to see. Occasionally he would spot a sentry and, quietly as he could, he would kill them, but it was mainly Blödhgarm and Arya that did most of it. It almost seemed pointless for him to be along on this mission, but Roran decided to show that not all humans were inferior to elves.

Glancing around a place that had once resembled a garden, Roran saw that the castle was guarded by soldiers, but it seemed that they were undermanned. _Or, _he thought, _perhaps they are inside guarding something. _

It seemed likely that someone would hide something here, but exactly what it was they would hide here puzzled Roran. It was the most unlikely place to hold Eragon, yet it was here that Islanzadí believed Eragon could be held. He couldn't imagine why a elf Queen would be in a place like this, especially when it was said to be owned by a Forsworn.

The mismatched trio ran through the gardens, and into a side door to the keep. It seemed like a private entrance, much like someone would have for their quarters. His Aunt Selena was said to have lived here, and it occurred to Roran that this would most likely be her quarters. As they entered the dark room, Roran's guess was correct. Besides the fact that it looked like no one had lived here for years, it was a beautiful room. Portraits of flowers were poised all along the wall, with dresses lining the floor.

It seemed that his aunt might have been in a hurry to leave, and Roran figured that it was when she was due with Eragon. Shaking his head, he followed the elves. From the sleeping quarters they entered a long hallway, and heard distant sounds of someone yelling. He watched as Arya silently drew Brisingr, and he followed by raising his hammer in preparation. The hallway was dark, and from Roran could see, was splattered with age old blood.

It seemed that the hallway ran the length of the castle, and it seemed most likely that the dungeons would be easily accessible from here. They quietly walked down the hallway, and Roran tried to make as little noise as possible. Of course, the elves seemed to make absolutely no noise at all. They heard screams of pain, and what sounded like something snapping. Blödhgarm had said a few words in his language, and another light appeared over Roran's shoulder. Blinking from the sudden bright light, Roran silently thanked the elf.

The screams came from around the corner, and Roran heard the sound of marching footsteps. Glancing around the corner, Roran saw that numerous guards were rushing towards a door located on the side of the hallway. The door slammed behind the recent guard to enter, and Arya silently approached. Looking around to make sure no guards were coming, Roran settled himself on the opposite side of the door, ready incase anything came out. He heard a guard scream in pain, before he heard another sickening snap.

Blödhgarm had grasped the handle and threw the door open, and Arya pounced through the now open door. Roran peered into through the doorway, and saw that it was another hallway. At the far end of the hallway, Roran saw that a man was on top of another man, viscously pounding with his fists into the other mans chest. The man on top was shaggy looking, with hair well past his shoulders, and his chest seemed to be oozing fresh blood.

Arya sprinted towards the man, and as quick as any elf, grasped the mans wrist, successfully stopping the next strike. The shaggy man, quicker than Roran thought possible, punched Arya in her chest, and he heard a bone snap. The man jumped onto of Arya, raising a fist. Blödhgarm and Roran began to charge at the man, but stopped when they heard Arya say, "Eragon?"

Her voice gave the man pause, and Roran got a good glimpse of his face. Indeed, it was his cousin, but a version of his cousin he thought he'd never see. Eragon was coated in blood, and his once clean shaven face held a beard. His cousins eyes, however, affected Roran. Eragon's eyes were no longer the murky brown he known them to be, but were instead blue. His eyes seemed to be a mirror image of Saphira's own, and Eragon's mouth was twisted in what Roran described as a dragon's snarl.

His upper lip was pulled back, and he snarled at Arya. Arya kicked Eragon off her, causing him to land were he was beating the man. The man, however, was no where in sight. Ignoring that, Roran slowly approached his cousin. Arya had gotten up off the ground, but didn't pick up the fallen blue sword. Instead, she slowly approached Eragon, who snarled at her.

Eragon charged at Arya again, and Arya dodged his incoming punches. Blödhgarm rushed towards Eragon, attempting to grab his arms. Eragon, however, kicked Blödhgarm in the chest, causing the elf to spit blood. Roran ducked as a wild fist was thrown at him, and saw that Arya was attempting to pin Eragon against the wall. She had grasped his other arm, and placed it behind his back after he had thrown the punch at Roran.

Roran grabbed his other arm, only for him and Arya to be thrown clear across the hallway. Arya landed on her feet, but Roran wasn't so fortunate; he smashed straight into opposite the wall. Getting up as quickly as he could, he watched as Arya and Eragon circled each other.

Arya was speaking to him in the ancient language, clearly trying to get Eragon to understand her. However, it seemed that Eragon didn't hear anything she said. He let out another snarl, and was thrown to the floor when Arya pounced on him. Arya had grabbed his arms and pinned them, but was thrashing wildly on the floor. Roran and Blödhgarm ran towards him and grasped his legs, holding him down. From his position, he saw that Arya was poised right over Eragon.

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><p>Eragon gazed into two emerald orbs, and felt the rage slowly leave him. The rage didn't completely disappear, but it seemed to retreat under the intense light from the orbs. Slowly blinking, Eragon felt pain wash over his body. His arms ached, and his chest felt like it was sliced open. As his vision cleared of the redness, Eragon saw that it was Arya who was gazing at him.<p>

Arya quickly jumped off of him, and he felt his legs being released. It seemed that once Arya had realized that he was back to his old self did she let him free. Dragging himself off the floor, he felt a strong arm pull him the rest of the way. Looking up at the person, Eragon saw that it was his cousin. Letting a small smile grace his lips, Eragon allowed Roran to help him up. Looking around, Eragon saw Blödhgarm there as well, but something was nagging at his mind.

Before he knew what he was saying, a quick "Hermod!" escaped his lips.

From beside him, his cousin said, "Who?"

Rapidly blinking, Eragon felt memories flow back into his mind. "The man that was here…" he said, and the effort it took him to speak caused him to sag more on Roran.

Arya ignored his previous statement, and instead slowly approached him. He saw apparent relief flash over her face, along with another emotion Eragon couldn't describe. In a soft voice that Eragon never heard before, Arya said, "What happened?"

A brief coughing fit over took Eragon, but he managed to utter, "When?"

Arya was gazing directly into his eyes, and the intensity of the look forced him to look away. "Before," she said.

He was so tired that he managed a short shrug, he avoided the question by asking one of his own, "How long?"

Roran stirred beside him, and began to lead him out of the hallway, with the two elves follow. "How long have you been gone? Around three months."

Eyes widening, Eragon stuttered, "Three months… Seemed less."

He felt more than saw Roran raise a eyebrow, and he said, "I'm surprised that you are even still awake right now. You look like you just got into a brawl with a bear."

A small chuckle escaped Eragon's mouth. Roran's frankness always made Eragon feel better, especially since Roran never danced around subjects near him. "Hey, it was a big bear."

Arya didn't seemed pleased with their joking around, and had stopped Roran and Eragon from venturing any further. "You must be healed, Eragon, for I fear you are losing to much blood."

Blödhgarm approached him, placing a hand over his chest and muttered, "Waíse heill!" A groan escaped Eragon, and he felt the skin on his chest crawl back together. While Blödhgarm worked his magic, Eragon saw that Arya was studying his healing chest. Catching her eye, he raised a eyebrow towards her. She quickly looked away, and Eragon heard Roran let out a small laugh.

Looking towards his cousin, Eragon shrugged, to which Roran laughed harder. Eragon laughed with him, until the motion caused pain to shoot through his chest. After a few more painful moments, Blödhgarm finally backed away saying, "There is nothing else I can do, Shadeslayer. I grow weary from the effort."

Waving him off, Eragon began to walk down the hallway, stopping when he had no idea which way to go. Turning back to his rescuers, he asked, "Er… which way?"

* * *

><p>Rousing from his waking sleep, Eragon for once felt completely refreshed. Sitting up, Eragon saw that they were in the middle of the Spine. They had camped out in a clearing, one barely big enough to hold four people. Standing up, he saw that Blödhgarm and Roran were still asleep, and that Arya was nowhere to be found. It surprised him to catch the elf sleeping, but he saw that the sun had yet to risen. They were a few days away from Belatona, and Eragon was eager to get back to see Saphira.<p>

The three months apart were the longest they have ever been separated, and it in itself was torture to Eragon. Using his elven sight, Eragon walked through the forest, looking for a brook. After a brief journey, Eragon found a small one, and used it to clean himself. They had traveled slow due to Eragon's wounds, and this was the first time he was able to get away from the group.

Glancing at himself in the water, he saw that his eyes were back to their brown color. Eragon used magic to shave off his beard, and cut his hair back to its original length. Hearing a twig snap behind him, Eragon whirled around, grasping for the sword that wasn't at his side. He saw Arya approach, his sword strapped to her side. She had yet to part with it, and Eragon didn't feel up to asking for it back.

Smiling at her, Eragon sat down at the edge of the brook. He heard her sit down beside him, and he turned his head towards her. She was sitting closer than she would have normally allowed, but Eragon vocalize the anomaly. She was quiet for some time, and Eragon didn't want to break the spell. When she finally spoke, Eragon was unsure if it was her that spoke, for it was in such a quiet voice, "What happened?"

He knew she was referring to before, when he lost all sense of control. He still felt it under the surface of his skin, but whenever Arya gazed at him with those emerald eyes, it receded back for the time being. Answering her question, he said in a equally quiet voice, "I don't know."

They were silent for a few more moments, until Eragon spoke louder, "It was unlike anything I have ever felt. The rage, the _power_, it was unbelievable. My arms shake just thinking about it. It consumed me, and I didn't know that I could stop it."

Arya picked up a random rock, and threw it into the brook. Raising her voice to match his, she said, "But you did."

Eragon let a sad smile grace his lips, before responding, "Barely. It was replaced by another feeling, something stronger." He knew what he felt, but he didn't want to vocalize it, fearing he would lose her friendship _again._

Arya was either unaware of distress, or she didn't care, for she said, "What feeling?"

Eragon merely looked at her, and smiled. He knew what she was trying to do, but he was unaware of exactly why she was trying to get him to say it. Instead, he remained silent, for he knew that she knew what emotion that was. They stayed silent for a brief moment, before Arya changed the subject. "What was it like, living on a farm?"

He was surprised at her question, for he she never asked about his past. Gazing out towards the brook, Eragon took a second to organize his thoughts. "Simple. Some years were worse than others, but I mostly hunted to bring back food."

Arya nodded, and he continued, "What made it harder was that I didn't know who I was. Eragon, son of none I was called, and it bothered me. It must have been hard for Brom, for me to be so close, yet unable to approach."

Again, they fell into silence. Eragon had laid down on his back, staring at the rising sun. It was beautiful here, even though most people feared the Spine. He wasn't surprised when Arya spoke again, but _was _surprised by what she said. In a quiet voice, she said, "I missed you."

Stunned, Eragon froze. While he knew that she had most likely missed him, he was caught off guard when she spoke it. He smiled at her, and tried not to read into it more than he should. Arya smiled at him, and said, "Saphira missed you as well."

At the mention of her name, Eragon felt his whole body tense. "Aye, I know." Thinking of Saphira made him feel the emptiness of his mind, and he desperately wanted to sprint all the way back to Belatona to see her. Arya, asked, 'What is it like? I mean, what is it like being away from her? I know what the bond between rider and dragon is said to be, yet it is hard to comprehend what it feels like to share your mind with someone else."

"Right now?" he said, "It feels like I'm missing half of myself. That every thought I have is incomplete, that every feeling is less intense. Normally, I can not tell where Saphira begins and I end, for we are constantly with each other. Of course, there are things I do not tell her, as there are things she doesn't tell me."

It is hard, sometimes, to have every thought over looked by someone else, but it helps. She is able to correct me if I am about to do something stupid, and she loathes to let me out of her sight. Its funny sometimes, because elves place dragons in such high esteem. If they you were to hear the conversation that takes place between us sometimes, you would probably look at us differently."

Gazing up at the sun, he saw that it was about time to set off. Arya had followed his gaze, and said, "Come, it is time to depart."

He nodded, and got off the ground. Following Arya back to the camp sight, he saw that Roran and Blödhgarm were both awake, and were waiting for their arrival. As soon as Roran saw them approach, he waggled his eyebrows towards Eragon. In retaliation, Eragon scuffed Roran behind his head, harder than he meant to. Laughing as Roran fell to the ground, he saw that the two elves were staring at them oddly.

Roran charged at Eragon, obviously intending to wrestle. As Roran reached him, Eragon grasped his shoulders, and rolled backwards, throwing Roran over him. His cousin attempted to pin him down, and Eragon was surprised at Roran's strength. Of course, he stood no chance against Eragon's elven abilities, even if he was still weak. He ended up pinning his cousin to the ground, and Roran brought up his knee against Eragon's chest.

When Roran pushed, Eragon let out a yelp of pain, jumping away from Roran. Arya was beside him in a second, scanning his shirtless chest. He saw that a particularly viscous wound and reopened, and he felt the rage boil under his skin. He closed his eyes, breathing in Arya's nearby scent, causing his body to relax.

_Bloodlust, _Eragon thought. _It's the same feeling that wild dragons are said to have. But why am I feeling it? _

He felt a cold hand press against his chest, and he saw that Arya was healing him again. This was the second time she healed him, especially when he was able to heal himself. The recent change in her character puzzled Eragon, but he merely cast it aside. He would talk to Saphira about it, when he returned.

Arya had backed away, and he saw the emotionless mask once again take hold of her face. He shook his head, helping Roran up, who was still laying on the ground. Roran threw him a questioning look, to which Eragon merely shrugged in reply. Waiting while Roran mounted Snowfire, Eragon ate what little fruit they still had left. The four of them set off, and Eragon ran beside his cousin, with Arya leading, and Blödhgarm behind them.

Even with the pace they were able to travel, it would take them days to reach Belatona. Beside him, his cousin had decided to speak, asking, "What took so long?"

He saw that Arya's ears had twitched, indicating that she had heard him speak. Reaching his mind out towards Snowfire, he urged the horse he stop suddenly, causing Roran to fly off his saddle. He heard Blödhgarm let out a laugh, and was glad when he saw that Arya had a small smile on her face.

Roran, climbing back onto Snowfire, exclaimed, "I don't even know why we bothered to rescue you, since all you do know is abuse me for your amusement."

Resuming their run, Eragon responded to Roran, saying, "Oh be quiet, you know you love me."

Roran snorted in reply, saying, "Right. You know, maybe I should tell Arya about the festival dance in Carvahall, you know the one where you-" he trailed off, obviously taunting Eragon.

Eragon's ears turned red, and he muttered under his breath, "Shut up."

Roran let out a loud laugh, and was followed by Blödhgarm's elven laugh. Eragon sighed, stating, "It wasn't that funny. How was I to know that she was the merchants daughter?"

Roran merely redoubled his laugh, and said, "It was a good thing Brom was there, or you would have been missing something other than your shirt!"

Eragon felt his ears couldn't get more red, and he muttered again, "Shut up."

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><p><strong>AN: In the future, I'm going to try to make the chapters a little bit longer, but I had already written most of this chapter when I posted Chapter 2. I think this Chapter is alright, and that I could do a lot better. I'm thinking of aiming higher, but the update time will be obviously slower, as it will take me longer to write. Please, Read and Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Its been a few days, but here's the next chapter. Thanks to those few who have reviewed it so far, and I sincerely hope that others will review as well. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

_He howled in pain, feeling the thick burning oil drip down his back. Everywhere it ran, it ate away at his skin, and with it, new pain. He heard the snap of a whip, and the accompanying flash of pain. It was all he knew, all he could remember. Not even the _feeling_ could get rid of the terrible pain. It was all around him, and it was slowly breaking him._

_He heard someone ask him something, but it was gibberish to his ears. A different voice came in, and the whip finally stopped. He felt something cold on his back, and the burning oil stopped. He felt sweat relief as his body was forcefully stitched back together, only for the burning sensation to arise once more. He felt something slash at his back, and with it came the cry of pain from his lips…_

Eragon snapped open his eyes, panting. His entire body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, even though he could make out snow falling around him. He felt a chill run across him, and he silently cursed that he didn't have a tunic. Waiting for the aches from his recent nightmare to go away, Eragon saw that no one had awaken yet. Slowly getting up on protesting limbs, Eragon made is way through the deep snow.

They had chosen a spot under a massive oak tree, to shield them from the blizzard. They were unable to move, lest they wished to freeze. Stumbling away, Eragon knew the risk of venturing out into the cold with no warmth, but ignored it. His mind only focused on the old pain, and he tried to push the memories away.

If Saphira were with him, she would be able to block out his memories, shielding him from the pain. She wasn't, however, and for the umpteenth time, Eragon wished he was back under her wing. He tried not to show it, but his body ached whenever he tried to keep pace with the others. The wounds would reopen, causing fresh blood to spill. Arya would heal him, telling him that they had to stop.

He would ignore her, however, and would continue his venture, leaving the others to catch up. The first few days he merely ignored the pain, acting like it wasn't there. Now, he could barely run, and the cold nipped at his wounds. Continuing his slow walk, Eragon came upon a strange rock formation. The rock was arched, as if something had plowed through the center, leaving a massive hole in its wake. Approaching the rock, he saw that the cold had frozen onto it, making it slick.

_A boot hit his chest, snapping his already bruised ribs… It felt like he was being dipped into acid, burning his skin… A horrible laugh, the only emotion he saw from Hermod…_

He broke himself out of the sudden eruption of memories, and he settled himself underneath the arched rock. There was no snow here, since the oddly place rock shielded the ground beneath it. The ground was warm, and he felt himself slip away… It felt easy to just lay here and sleep…

He distantly heard someone calling for him… He heard the sounds of snow being crunched under boots… a whisper of a heart beat…

He slowly opened his eyes, and saw that the snow had piled higher. Blinking away at the blinding snow, he saw that Arya was poised right outside the rock arch. She had obviously been looking for him, and from the looks of it, so had the others. He felt cold, but that didn't surprise him. Arya handed him a linen blanket, and Eragon gratefully wrapped it around his shoulders, to shield away the wind.

The snow storm had died down, leaving everything with a coat of snow. Icicles were hanging dangerously from trees, ready to be knocked over. Standing up, Eragon heard Arya say something, but it escaped him. She motioned in the way of their camp, and Eragon slowly followed her.

Walking through the snow was hard, as Eragon tried to avoid anything he couldn't see under it. Taking a cautious step, Eragon felt something pull at his ankle, and he was to slow to place his hands in front of him. He felt slender arms grasp him, and Arya took his arm and placed it around her shoulder, allowing him to lean on her. They slowly made there way back to the camp in silence, and Eragon saw that Roran and Blödhgarm had started a fire.

Sitting down beside Roran, he was surprised when Arya settled next to him. Blödhgarm had his back to the camp, obviously looking around for anything suspicious. His cousin was staring intently at the fire, and Eragon watched as he slowly turned towards him. He was expecting to be berated by Roran for going out, and also expected Arya to join his cousin.

Neither did anything like this, except when Roran scuffed Eragon on the back of his head.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing his head. "What was that for?"

His cousin shrugged his massive shoulders, and replied, "Payback."

Eragon began laughing, and he heard his cousin let out a laugh with him. Eragon's laugh was cut short when he coughed. He coughed into his hand, trying not to be rude around the others. He felt something warm hit his hand, and he glanced down to see blood. His eyes widened in surprise, and he quickly he was about to wipe his hand on his leggings when a hand shot out. Arya grasped his wrist, bringing his hand close for her inspection.

He sighed and opened his hand, showing her the blood. Arya narrowed her eyes at him, and he drew back his hand, and tried to quell his rushing heart. Just sitting next to her made his heart beat faster, spreading warmth throughout his body. She was sitting closer again than normal to him, but he didn't say anything. It was better for him not to read into anything she did, and to merely let her do what she wished.

It still didn't help the fact that he longed to be with her. Roran got up off the ground and joined Blödhgarm, and Eragon was surprised when the two began to talk. Eragon sighed a shrugged off the linen blanket, having been warmed by the fire. Arya was silent for quiet some time, and Eragon stared into the raging fire. Watching the dancing fire, he broke the moment of silence saying, "How did you know where I was going to be?"

He could barely make out Arya from the corner of his eye, but he saw he brush a few locks of hair behind her ear. In a whisper, she said, "You were bleeding. By the time I reached you, the wound had already closed again, but you fainted from loss of blood."

Eragon sighed, and without realizing what he was saying, muttered, "Seems like a regular thing now."

It was low under his breath, and he was surprised that Arya could hear it, when he barely heard himself say it. He saw her glance at him, before turning back to the fire. She picked up a stray branch, throwing it into the center of the fire. "What did they do to you?"

He grimaced. Eragon knew she was going to eventually ask the question, but was surprised about the timing. He figured she'd ask him after they got back to Belatona, and had a chance to talk to Saphira. Letting out a sigh, he said, "What didn't they do… I'm sure your time wasn't easy at Gil'ead, but I would have preferred Durza than Hermod."

She was silent, and he couldn't tell if it was because of him mentioning Gil'ead, or because of his own torture. Eventually, she asked, "Who is this Hermod?"

Images flashed before Eragon's eyes, each of the man in black. "I don't know exactly, but he was the man you found me with. I don't know if I killed him, but he wasn't there afterwards."

The memory of himself mercilessly hitting Hermod made him feel bitter, and he tried as best he could to cast them away. They returned, and all he could see was his changed blue eyes. Arya was obviously thinking the same thing, for she asked, "Your eyes, they were blue, the same color as Saphira's. Yet now, they are brown again. Did you purposely change them?"

"I don't know why they changed. I'm not aware of anyway to change them, at least not to match Saphira's. I have looked through her eyes before, and they are usually with a sapphire tint to the world. Before… before, everything was red."

They fell into a silence, and Eragon hoped she wouldn't broach the subject again_. _As Arya opened her mouth to speak, Eragon cut her off. "What are Nasuada's plans for the winter? And your mother, have they taken to leave Gil'ead yet?"

Arya sighed and Eragon watched as her face became emotionless. "Nasuada wishes to stay in Belatona, but food is scarce. It is hard enough to feed the citizens, let alone a army. My mother, on the other hand, has decided to march towards Bullridge. They have yet to leave, but plan to on your return."

It amazed him at how fast she would become emotionless, and the few emotions he could see were always brief. Arya was always cold to anyone, but he knew it was just a façade. Ever since the Burning Plains, Arya had acted differently towards Eragon. He would see small sides of her that he never saw before. He would not act upon what he saw, however, for if any progress was to be made with their friendship, she would have to initiate it.

He decided to ask Roran, alone, as to how Arya acted when he was gone. She _still _held onto Brisingr, and he knew she was waiting for him to ask. To what purpose, however, he knew not. In his condition right now, Brisingr would be of little help should they be ambushed. He was glad that the three of them had come to rescue him, for he didn't know who else to trust in such a vulnerable state.

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><p>Treading through the deep snow beside Roran, Eragon saw that the snow depth was decreasing as they made their way to Belatona. The city was distant, nothing less than another few hours journey, but Eragon could hear the bustling city. In a quiet voice, Roran asked, "Why can't you run? When we first found you, you were able to keep up with Snowfire and the elves, despite your wounds."<p>

Sighing, Eragon saw that both elves perked up at the question. "During my capture, I grew accustomed to blocking out pain for prolonged periods of time. After a while, though, the pain begins to build."

His cousin nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer. Dodging a outcropping rock, Eragon looked towards the distance, hoping to see a blue speck. He extended his mind tiredly towards the city, and was surprised when he heard a mental cry that made him falter in his step.

_Eragon!_

There was no mistaking the voice, and Eragon redoubled his speed, ignoring his protesting wounds and limbs. Shouting with both his mind and voice, he cried "_Saphira!"_

The familiar feeling of warm water rushing into his mind enveloped Eragon, and he felt her emotions flow into his. The longing, the pain, and the agony of being separated disappeared when he felt her mind. Her conscience flowed around his, grasping as much of his mind as she could. He felt her sorrow, and the violent rage that she possessed. Glancing towards Belatona, he heard a earth shattering roar. The roar resonated off around him, and Eragon let out a laugh.

He was well ahead of the others, and when he spotted Saphira flying towards him, Eragon strained every muscle to reach her faster. He was glad that his mind was in contact with hers, but to be in her presence again would make Eragon truly feel whole.

He heard her compassionate voice echo around his head, and Eragon was dazed from not feeling something so familiar in so long. _Little one, you have returned to me. _

He smiled, despite the fact that she could not see him, but he knew she could feel his happiness. _I will always return to you, Saphira. I love you too much to stay away._

He felt her happiness combine with his own, and he basked in her emotions. _I love you too, little one. _

She was closer now, flying full speed towards him. _You better stop running, little one. Lest your feet give way underneath you. _

He slowed his approach, knowing he couldn't rest till her was with her again._ I never wish to be separated from you again for that long. My captivity was only made worse by not being with you. _

Eragon felt her sadness flow into him when he mentioned his captivity, and he felt her try to gain access towards the memories. He blocked her, hiding away the pain from her. _Little one-_

_Not now, Saphira._ he responded. He didn't wish to tarnish their reunion with old memories, especially ones that caused him grief. Eragon felt her retract from that portion of his mind, but didn't remove completely, something Eragon was grateful for. Just having his mind in contact with his partner-of-mind was enough to quell the pain, and Eragon never wished to give it up.

He felt a multitude of emotions flow through their bond, and he knew that Saphira would wish to talk about it later. His eyes followed her approach, and he saw how big she had grown. She was bigger than he'd ever seen her, and he guessed that she was bigger than he had last seen Thorn. Three months was nothing small, and Eragon was surprised that the Varden were able to last so long without him. Murtagh had not attack Belatona, and he was glad that Galbatorix hadn't sent a army towards them.

Feeling a gust of wind buffet him, Eragon stopped running. Watching as his magnificent dragon landed, Eragon lunged towards her neck, hugging her with all his strength. Even in his weakened condition, he heard Saphira say, _Little one, unless you wish to choke me again, you must let go. _

Eragon smiled, and released her neck. She lowered her massive face towards him, and he instead rested his forehead in the space between her eyes, content to stay their forever. They only separated when the others approached, and Eragon watched as she gazed at each of his rescuers. For the second time in his life, he heard Saphira speak to Arya with the same affection as before, and said, _Thank you, Emerald-eyes, for returning my little one. _

Saphira approached Arya, and bent her neck so that their eyes were on the same level. Through their bond, he felt Saphira close part of herself to him, and he guessed that she was talking to Arya. After a few moments, Saphira withdrew, and Eragon was surprised when Arya smiled towards the dragon.

She thanked both Roran and Blödhgarm, but Eragon noticed that both hadn't received the same affection. Roran, being a important figure in Eragon's life, was spoken to privately, before Saphira returned to Eragon's side. _Nasuada wishes to speak with Eragon and Arya as soon as possible. Come, I will take you both to her._

He saw that she had her saddle on, and he assumed that one of the twelve elves must have placed it on her. Speaking towards Saphira, Eragon said, _I'd love to jump up their, but that previous run sapped most of my strength. _Saphira, in response, bent her long neck beside Eragon, allowing him to grasp her. She lifted him towards her back, and he used the leverage to get onto his seat. Strapping himself in, he felt Arya settle in behind him.

Letting out a roar, Saphira jumped into the air, gliding towards Belatona. _It has been a long time since we have flown together, Saphira. _

_Indeed._

Through their bond, Eragon sensed Saphira's sudden intentions. Sending a quick mental thought to Arya, he said, _Better hold on. _

He felt confusion grow in her mind, and she asked, _What are you-_

Her sentence was cut short by Saphira's sudden roar, who then snapped her wings shut, diving towards the ground. The air was impossibly cold, but Eragon ignored the sensation. Letting out a yell of pleasure, he felt Arya's arms stiffen around his core, and the contact between his bare skin and her arm sent warm feelings coursing throughout his body. As Saphira spread her wings, the sudden death drop was cut short. Saphira, once gaining a safe altitude, closed her wings once again, and proceeded to barrel roll in mid air.

Eragon was glad that Arya had the sense to strap herself into the saddle, as she would have been thrown from Saphira. Her grip, though, would have torn Eragon out of his own straps. Leveling out, Saphira began a slow descent towards the city. She landed in the gardens of the castle, and Eragon assumed that this was her customary spot. Removing the straps from his legs, Eragon vaulted off of Saphira's back. He landed hard on the ground, and was driven to his knee from the agony of his wounds.

The pain arched across their link, causing Saphira to stumble as Arya jumped from her back. Arya landed as graceful as ever, and quickly made her way towards Eragon side. Saphira's gentle voice flowed into his head, saying, _Little one, what have they done to you? _

Standing back up slowly, Eragon glanced around them. They had gathered quiet a crowd, and Eragon heard them whisper to each other.

The Shadeslayer returns!"

"Thank the gods, Agretlam is back!"

He saw the twelve elves make their way through the crowd towards him, fanning out all around him. Each came towards him, greeting him in the ancient language. As a female elf approached him, she handed him a fresh tunic. He saw that the tunic was from his collection, and he gladly pulled it over his head. Thanking the elf, Eragon looked towards Arya. She was gazing at the crowd with such fierce determination that it gave Eragon pause.

He felt Saphira let out a laugh in his mind, and she said, _You will be lucky if you are given a moment of privacy in this keep. Arya will not let you out of her sight again. _

He glanced at Saphira, and he felt her contentedness at the fact that he would be watched where she could not venture. Shaking his head, he asked Arya, "Shall we? I do not know where they will be, so it is best if you lead."

She nodded, taking off towards a door that led farther to the center of the keep. He fell in step behind her, and the twelve elves surrounded him. Once they were well enough away from the crowd, Saphira took off. _I shall meet you there. _

Walking around a corner, one of the twelve elves spoke. "It is most heartening to see you return, Shadeslayer. Saphira Bjartskular was most displeased with your capture. It took most of Arya Dröttningu's power to keep her from rushing off into the empire."

The rest of the elves nodded in agreement, and Eragon responded, "Thank you, it is good to be back among my friends again."

Saphira's voice startled Eragon, making him miss a step. _Roran and Blödhgarm are entering the city now, and should arrive a few minutes after you. _

His misplaced step echoed throughout the empty hallway, and he saw Arya glance towards him. The hallway was cast in torch light, with open windows allowing sunlight to flow into the barren hallway. Reaching the room that would hold the meeting, Eragon saw that most of the Council of Elders were present, as well as Nasuada. Glancing around the meeting room, Eragon saw that it was decorated much the same as the rest of the keep. In the center of the massive room stood a long table, with Nasuada and the others lining one side.

He guessed that she wished to speak to him directly, and Eragon steeled his mind. It was a odd way for them to talk, having to sit opposite each other at such a long table. Approaching a seat directly opposite Nasuada, Eragon heard the sound of Saphira entering the room. She took a spot directly behind Eragon and Arya, and he could feel her breath against the back of his neck.

As both him and Arya took a seat, he saw that Nasuada held barely contained joy. She obviously wished greet him in a more friendlier way, but instead decided to act her role as Varden Leader. She smiled at him, and said, "Eragon! It is good that you have returned to us. The tip that was once dull is now sharpened."

The rest of the Council members muttered their greetings towards him. He nodded at them, and said to Nasuada, "Aye, it is good to be here."

One of the Nighthawks entered the room, carrying two large mirrors, setting them down at opposite ends of the table. Arya, being the elven ambassador, muttered a spell to communicate with the elven queen. She muttered another towards the second mirror, and he was surprised when Orik's face appeared.

Turning towards the Queen first, Eragon began the customary greetings. Placing two fingers against his lips, he said, "Atra esterni ono thelduin."

Islanzadí, in a rare flash of emotion, smiled at Eragon and said, "Mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr."

Finishing the greeting, Eragon said, "Un du evarinya ono varda."

He turned towards Orik, and the dwarven king exclaimed, "Eragon! It is good to see you."

He smiled at his foster-brother, but was cut short by Nasuada. Speaking towards Arya, she asked, 'Where did you rescue him from?"

Arya raised a eyebrow, but replied, "Rescue? He broke out by the time we had arrived. He was kept at Morzan's castle, though, to answer the question."

Islanzadí's eyebrows raised, while Orik let out a praise towards Eragon's power. The Queen looked at Eragon and said, "Impossible. You were kept prisoner for nigh on three months, and not even Vrael himself could accomplish such a task unscathed."

"She speaks the truth, Queen Islanzadí. We found Eragon outside his cell, having already dispatched numerous guards unarmed." Eragon heard Blödhgarm enter from behind him, and the furry elf stopped before the queen. He used the customary greetings of elves, before retreating to sit beside Eragon. His cousin entered the meeting room as well, and he sat down beside's Arya.

Nasuada cast a critical eye over Eragon and said, "How was this possible?"

Eragon took a moment to compose himself, and replied in a monotone voice, "I was badly wounded. I don't remember escaping all that well, but I do remember a surge of energy flowing through me." He noticed Arya glance at him, but she seemed to approve of not talking about his rampage. He would discuss the matter later with both her and Saphira.

Not wanting them to prod further, Eragon said, "I also don't remember how I was captured, but I do remember who did it. It was a man in black, one they called Hermod." At the mention of the man's name, several of the Council members gasped. Both Nasuada and Islanzadi shared a glance, and the Varden Leader asked, "Are you certain that was his name?"

Nodding, Eragon asked, "Why? I take it from their reaction that he is known."

Nasuada became silent for a moment, before responding, "In the empire, my spies had heard a rumor. They say that a man called Hermod was Galbatorix's right hand man, but it is known that Hermod is his armies Commander. They say he is ruthless, and that even his torture methods disgust the most vile of men."

Running a hand through his hair, Eragon responded, "Aye. He kept asking me questions, but after a while the words faded out. The healers kept healing me, dozens at a time. I don't know how my body was able to sustain such a heavy taxing with the constant damage and healing, but I was able to break free."

Nasuada nodded, and Islanzadi said, "There are gaps in your story, Shadeslayer. However, its seems that such a difficult time warrants rest, and I imagine you do not wish to speak of such treacheries."

Nasuada stood, and said, "The meeting is adjourned. Eragon and Arya, I wish to speak to you privately for a moment."

Both Arya and Eragon stayed seated, while the rest exited. The mirrors faded out, and the two Nighthawks retrieved them before leaving. Nasuada walked around the table, and Eragon stood. She approached him, and embraced him. Momentarily stunned by the action, Eragon stiffened.

She withdrew, and he was again surprised as she embraced Arya. Arya it seemed, was not expecting such action, and stiffened as well. It was odd to see Nasuada embrace the emotionless elven warrior, and Eragon almost found the situation comical. Saphira had no quarrels with holding herself back, letting out a snort and basking them in hot smoke. Clearing out the air, Nasuada said, "It was difficult, when you disappeared. When Arya returned with your sword, most of the Council members flew into a panic." She let snorted at the statement, and continued, "It was not easy telling the Varden that their greatest hope and weapon was missing, and we prepared for the worst."

Eragon placed his hand on her shoulder, and said, "I am here, and that is all that matters."

Nasuada nodded, and replied, "Indeed. Go, I imagine you are tired and cold from such a journey."

Eragon walked away from Nasuada, who had turned back to some parchments that were scattered across the table. He followed Arya, and Saphira climbed through the massive hole in the wall. From her mind, he gathered that she was going to the gardens, and was glad when Arya began to lead him there.

Reaching the garden, Eragon settled down beside Saphira's warm belly, content to sleep under her wing for the night. Arya approached him, looking at Saphira. Eragon guessed that they must have communicated, for Arya laid on the grass under Saphira's wing as well. Encasing them in a sapphire membrane, Saphira said, _Sleep well, Little ones._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So... Its slightly longer, but I'm aiming for even longer. Maybe around 5k to 6k words, though it does depend on the actual chapter, and what is happening in the story. I'm obviously a ExA fan, but I do not like it when they progress to fast. I think this is a good pace, considering that Arya had time to herself without Eragon around. When someone goes missing like that, it can tend to make you think differently! Not to much differently, but I do want her to open more as a character. She shows little to now emotion, and when she does, they are very strong. Eragon's torture was worse than Arya's, and we will see slowly over time why as the memories begin to haunt him. **


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